


You sir, are not a fish

by Medikitty



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Tragic Romance, gay cowboys fishin, what more could you want
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 04:32:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18931324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medikitty/pseuds/Medikitty
Summary: New camp means a lot of hard work to pick up where the gang left off.  Arthur notices the toll it's taking on John and decides perhaps a little nostalgic quality time could do the cowboy some good.





	1. You don't have to save, yourself

**Author's Note:**

> I realized I had this story buried in my files and thought I'd share <3

** "Ain't you got somethin' better to do Arthur?" **  John snapped as he stumbled past Arthur with a bale of hay for the horses.  He was already in a foul mood from being roped into undertaking chores the gang avoided, not to mention Abigail's endless gripes regarding Jack.  The last thing the cowboy needed was Arthur jabbing sore wounds of insecurities.   
  
There had been a tense quieted moment before the outlaw mumbled a meek apology as he trailed behind him.  The only response he received from the younger was a grumble, followed by tossing the bale carelessly.

  
  
** "Ya'know what John?  Let's go. " **

  
  
** "Pardon?" **

  
  
John promptly turned, blinking in a doe-eyed confusion.  The corner of the outlaws mouth twitched into the smallest of smirks.  The boy had those classic moments where he could just be so goddamn—  just be so John.   
  
** "Fishin'." **


	2. I'll be there to catch you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "we are to be escapin' for the afternoon. Ain't that what you dragged me out here for Morgan?"

** "Woah there!  Now hang on just a damn minute, Morgan.  You never mentioned a boat. "  **   
  
The outlaw looked over his shoulder back at the younger man.  His brow quirked in evident amusement to the protest and scoffed,   
  
** "What'd you think we were doin'?  Catching sunfish? "  **

  
  
To be honest, John hadn't known what the actual agenda was only that they were off to go fishing.  He glanced over at the rickety boat, just barely able to squeeze two and then at the murky ripples of the vast lake.  It wasn't as though he didn't want to.  Occupying time with Arthur to take his mind off the weight on his shoulders was more than he could want right now.  It was nostalgic.  However, there was one critical issue.

  
  
** "Well, the camp wouldn't argue against sunfish if that means contributing..." ** John said, scraping along the shores rocky surface with his boot.   
  
** "Nah, that's child's play.  If we are scoring, we are scoring big!  So get your tail out from between your legs wolfman. " **

 

The cowboy glared at Arthur but meandered to his side, lighting a cigarette to soothe his nerves.  He wasn't absolutely certain if Arthur was neglecting the fact he couldn't swim or if he had forgotten.   
  
** "Sure, sure," **  he drawled out finally, puffing out a cloud of smoke.  Handing the light cigarette to Arthur to finish, John clambered into the boat carefully, rod tightly gripped in his hand. With John distracted Arthur allowed a small smile tug at his gentle lips as he exhaled the tobacco smoke.   
  


** "Don't you worry.  I've got you, boy," **  he said in a quiet murmur, so the other couldn't hear before flicking the cigarette onto the ground to rejoin his fishing companion.

 

The boat was narrow for sure, merely leaving on only the yoke and a balancing plank in between them.  Arthur took the stern, rowing them out to the middle of the peaceful lake.  It was a rather minuscule lake, murky and brown.  Here and there the shine of bright yellow scales could be spotted underneath the rippling surface.  **" Say, what are we after anyways?"** John said, disturbing the calming quiet.  Arthur stopped paddling, snaking the oars onto the floor of the boat.  Stroking the stubble on his chin thoughtfully, the outlaw looked out across the glittering water as the evening sunset it a luminous glow.

  
** "Well, I caught word of a mighty fine sized bass located here.  If he's as big as they were talkin' him up... I reckoned two men might be better than one. " **

  
  
There was an anxious pause as the elder made himself distracted by rummaging through a pouch of lures.  John's concerned eyes looked abroad.  Arthur only fidgeted when he was trying to get something off his chest that made him uncertain if what he was about to comment was a smart idea.

  
  
** " 'sides it looked like you could get away from camp for a while.  With lil' Miss Abigail and MissGrimshaw breathing down your neck and all... " **

 

John let out a soft snort of amusement gently shaking his head , ** "Ahah, ya damn right about that.  Ms. Grimshaw sure knows how to get her way when it comes to the camp. " **

 

Silence lingered between them, the ominous quiet that reminded them of their unavoidable realities.   _John had Abigail—_ _had Jack_ , no matter how miserable the boy looked when his most genuine attempts weren't enough for her.  And _Arthur?_ _  What'd he have? _  Only a possible death sentence and the false comforts of Dutch's unraveling sanity. **  
  
  
** It was John to deviate from their shared thoughts as he leaned over, his unoccupied hand resting comfortably on Arthur's knee. ****  
  
"Hey," John cooed in a hushed tone.

****  
  
"we are to be escapin' for the afternoon.  Ain't that what you dragged me out here for Morgan? "

 

** "I- Yeah.  You're right, I guess. " ** Arthur  mumbled, daring to look up into those dark umber colored eyes.  He regretted it the moment he did so as John regarded no hesitation to capture his lips the moment their eyes locked in mutual agreeance.  John was habitually the more emotional type.   _Perhaps  his brain lacked the capacity to accommodate the notion of restraint and acting out of emotion?..._ _ or perhaps the wolves devoured what little there was left... _

 

No sooner did it happen, the intimate private moment vanished as John began eagerly rummaging through the tackle and bait they brought in their satchels adding, **"Now let's get us a real ace to bring to the table!** ** "  ** The outlaw chuckled and promptly joined him, bickering over who had the best plan to efficiently capture the scaly beast.

 

** "You know I met a man once, an old coot that had himself a rivalry with a fish..." **

  
  
** "Oho yeah?" **

  
  
** "He named the damn thing and everything!  'Was invited fishin' with him to witness such foolishness. He was a good man. "  **

  
  
They stood shoulder to shoulder, John's ears attuned to the husky voice of his companion.  The only time their small yet conscious contact was parted was to cast out a lure into the pond before immediately rejoining at the arms.   
  
Arthur was always excellent at telling stories, even as kids that silver tongue could make a small jackrabbit sound like a savage bear.

 

**"He said the damn thing, flipped him clear outa the boat and into the water!"**

 

John inadvertently gave the outlaw a wary sidelong glance to that tidbit.  He wasn't frightened of water entirely.  He loved to fish, enjoyed sitting comfortably at the shore without any fear.  However, he also was aware he could not swim and therefore tested that fine tightrope he teetered on so recklessly.  Arthur could feel John tense and instinctively leaned against him with a gentle nudge.  He fondly supposed it was time to let up with his false ignorance to gently tease the younger.

  
** "Hey, you know I got you.  Always have. "  **

  
  
The cowboy naturally gave a small smirk before recasting his line and locking the wire in place to grab for his flask filled with bourbon. He took a large gulp before passing it over to Arthur, who obliged.

 

_Now, let us see about this bass..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legendary fishing is a chore but boy do I enjoy cramping my hands to catch em.
> 
> More to come.


End file.
